I Will Continue
by SecretRose23
Summary: Much has happened since Thomas Shelby and Alfie Solomons have laid eyes on each other. Years have passed and the two men are in radically different places in their lives, much different from what they had envisioned. This fanfic refers to storylines from New Beginnings and Let Us Recommence as well as Season 5 (Spoiler warning). Rated M for Language and themes.
1. Black Cats and Crowns

"Black cats and crowns," Alfie scoffed. "I'll tell you what yer problem is. Yer stuck in your fuckin head."

Tommy took another drag of his cigarette, waiting for Alfie Solomons to finish his rant.

"Clear as day, you've gone mental."

_I'm not the one shooting at seagulls from a window in fucking Margate. _

The window was open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. In the distance, Tommy could see ships, but he wasn't focusing on the ships, he was studying the man seated across from him, looking comfortable and very much alive in a green velvet vest, white shirt, and black slacks.

Tommy continued to smoke, letting Alfie's words roll off him.

_I'm a god too. I can rise above insults._

Except the truth was, they weren't insults, they were accurate observations. He was losing his grip. Outsiders said he was losing his head. Alfie Solomons, for all his seemingly mindless drivel, was quite perceptive.

_Even with half his face blown off. _

He watched Alfie raise the binoculars to one eye and peer out the window of his dimly lit margate apartment. The apartment itself reminded him of an antique collector's shop, crammed with furniture, multiple lamps, chandeliers, clocks, odds, and ends. A place full of meaningless things, collecting dust, suffocating. Or maybe that was the smoke in his lungs. He could feel the tightness in his chest as he stifled a cough. He found himself staring at Solomons's glazed blue-green eye and scarred face as the man peered out the window.

_Shooting at ships. Is this what he's been reduced to? _The man didn't even have his dog.

"How's Ada?" Alfie asked, lowering the binoculars.

"I need to shoot someone Alfie," Tommy said, ignoring the question. Solomons had no right to speak of his sister. After their impromptu wedding, Solomons and Ada had had a turbulent marriage. There were the Russians to deal with, then the Changrettas.

_And the loss of the baby._

His sister had been devastated after giving birth to a stillborn girl. She was going to name her Rose. Then John had been gunned down. Solomons had been this continuous thorn in his side with the constant double crossing and betrayals that had seemed to escalate in frequency and intensity after the loss of his child. Then Tommy had decided to kill Solomons and sever his personal and professional relationship with the man once and for all.

_Why didn't I kill him?_

Alfie had asked him where his mind had been when he was trying to kill him on that beach. Tommy didn't want to think about that day because it reminded him of the uncertainty he had felt, the instability beginning to catch up with him.

"She's with a colonel isn't that right?" Alfie asked, breaking into his thoughts.

_Younger's dead. And she's pregnant again. _

_We are not discussing my sister. _He did not wanting Alfie to know that his sister was alone and pregnant. She was better off without Solomons in her life. Her and Karl.

"And Karl? The little lad must be all grown up yeah? He still playing chess? I taught him you know."

Tommy remembered toppling the king over on Karl's chessboard.

_Black cats and crowns and fallen kings._

"So we are in agreement about Mosley?"

"How's the third Mrs. Shelby?

The words dredged up memories from the past.

_May. _

After Grace gave birth to Charlie, his marriage to May had crumbled.

_It's her or me._

One last ultimatum. One last chance. Then one day without warning, she had thrown him out of her house, changed the locks, told her staff not to let him back in. Then he'd married Grace, had lost Grace, had and lost May again when she had come to visit years later at his new gin distillery, trying and failing to reconcile with him when she saw that he hadn't changed, was haunted by Grace's ghost, then Lizzie with Ruby…

_I should have told her I could change. I should have convinced her._

Instead, he'd gotten Lizzie pregnant, become an MP, transformed into this version of himself he never would have conceived of years ago.

_Throwing a party with a fucking ballet. _Who was he trying to convince? Who was he turning into?

The memories began to swirl around and around in his head that was now beginning to throb.

"Honestly Thomas, you should have stuck with the first. I guess third time's the charm? Although I have to say, the first one had a better pedigree for politics. Wouldn't mind having a wife like that."

First Mosley, now Alfie, digging into him, trying to get him to crack. Referencing May, alluding to Lizzie's sordid past. And was he really sitting there trying to make a play for his ex- wife? The thought of Solomons within close proximity of May made his blood begin to boil

A nerve twitched in his jaw, but he said nothing.

Solomons changed the track of the conversation.

"And Michael's back? No longer mental? He must still be after what I've been hearing about the stock market crash."

_God damn it. _

Another sore subject.

He'd forgiven Michael against all his better judgment and because of Polly's urgings, as well as what he'd gone through with the Changrettas, given him a job, one job in America, and Michael had lost the money.

_And there's the new wife._

Tommy didn't like the looks of her; blonde, with wide cunning eyes, ambitious eyes, cold calculating eyes. _Gina Gray. _She had Michael wrapped around her finger. Had him come back with a "business proposition" that involved taking his crown, exiling him to some hell hole similar to the one Alfie Solomons was currently in, alone, surrounded by traitors.

"So this fascist. Yer goin to kill him."

Tommy didn't like the note of amused skepticism in Solomons's voice.

"I had a recurring dream, I saw you in a field with a big black horse and you said goodbye and Bang.

Tommy said nothing. He remembered shooting that black horse, how the cold metal felt against his temple, closing his eyes.

"All right then. Well, what now?"

Tommy tossed his cigarette onto the floor and leaned forward.

"I will continue… He paused, collecting his scattered thoughts and reaching for his flat cap. "Till I find a man that I can't defeat." He looked Solomons right in the eye. There was a knowing gleam in the man's good eye, a look Tommy didn't like.

_Life is so much easier to deal with when you're dead. _

The thought came, unbidden to his mind, Solomon's voice echoing in his head along with Grace's breathing. He rose to his feet and walked out of the room without another word.


	2. The Field

Alfie

_ Well, this isn't good._

He heard the screams before he saw the man. The fog was too damn thick to make out much of anything until he was within a few feet of the man, but he saw wasn't good. Thomas Shelby was facing him, a gun jammed to the side of his head, screaming bloody murder.

Alfie decided it probably wouldn't be the best idea to tell the man wife number three had left with the children. He had seen a tall brunette woman holding two small children by the hand, one blonde boy, one dark-haired girl into a car and speeding away as if escaping from the fires of hell. He couldn't say he blamed the woman after hearing about the botched assassination attempt. She probably had put two and two together that Shelby was involved in it somehow. And what a botched job it was. Shelby, standing by Mosley waiting for the shot that would send Mosley toppling to the ground and it never came. Then the riots.

_"_Thomas! Shalom!" He said, waving his hands in front of his face, trying to get the man's attention. What could be wrong with the expression of peace?

He drew closer, hands raised, trying to get the mans' attention. The scream sounded inhuman, filled with rage.

Tommy

Footsteps crunching on the frozen ground reached his ears. A tall figure in a black cloak cut through the fog. He thought of the scarecrow planted in his field by the Billy Boys. He thought of the grim reaper.

"Shalom Thomas! Shalom!"

"It's all done Tommy," Grace whispered in his ear.

_It's time you drown like your gypsy mother. It's time to float down the river on The January with Grace's ghost. It's what you deserve. _

That voice was low, breathy, but not Grace's. It was a nagging, pulling voice, tempting him to pull the trigger.

Listen to the voices that you hear.

"IT'S ALL DONE!" He screamed.

"What do you mean it's all done? Alfie's question bounced back to him. It hasn't even started. You didn't kill your man yet." Alfie cupped his large hands over his mouth.

Tommy turned and saw that Grace was gone.

"Think of yer image, Thomas. "Let's keep this between us, between friends. No need for any of our associates to see this yeah?"

_We're not fucking friends._

"Don't come any closer!"

"I'm an ally, Thomas. I'm no black cat. Hate the mangy little buggers. Now dogs… Aw shit there he is,"

The bullmastiff bounded past Shelby, appearing as if out of thin air, cut through the fog and barreled towards its master. "He's supposed to think I'm dead. Ah well, he's got my scent. It's all done for now." Tommy watched him rough house with the dog.

"Good Cyril. Good boy. All right Tommy, let's get inside. This cold is bad for the bones and smog isn't good for the lungs. "Put the gun down yeah?"

He could feel it, his resolve slipping, just like it had slipped when he had Alfie's life in his hands on the beach. He lowered the gun, slowly.

"That's it. There we go. It looks warm inside, downright cozy. We'll go in there eh Cyril?"


	3. Let's Talk

"Eat something," Alfie urged.

"I don't eat."

"That's right you don't eat. All the years I've know you, I've never seen you take a bite of food. What are you living on, air?"

"Opium."

"Well, that'll do it. Drink somethin. You're lookin worse than that there scarecrow yonder. Opium eh? I thought Bourbon was your poison."

_I shouldn't have told him that. Shouldn't be telling people anything._

He'd gotten so used to people not listening that he felt he could say what he wanted and now Alfie of all people, was listening, listening intently.

He drank and drank.

"What happened Tommy? Why wasn't there a bang?" "The rally."

"There's a traitor. I don't know who, I don't know how they pulled it off, but there's a traitor."

"And you decide it's the perfect time to blow your brains out? Didn't want to solve that pesky little mystery eh? No, I get it, letting off a little steam, playing a little Russian roulette. Must be something you picked up from what was er name now, Tatiana?"

Tommy turned to look at him.

"How the fuck do you know Tatiana?"

"Remember, the jewels Thomas? I know, ancient history. I got a set, saved them for Ada but it was never the right time to give them, what with the baby and all. A nice set of diamond earrings. Superb."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to collect. Payment. A botched job is still a job. Isn't that right Cyril." Alfie patted the dog on the head.

"Take your fucking dog with you."

"He's better off here. A man like you shouldn't be alone."

The house was silent.

No sound of Charlie playing the violin. No sound of Ruby's high childish prattle. No Lizzie."

"As I said, I'm the only one you've got."

_Fuck._

"Take a breather Thomas, collect your thoughts. Find your checkbook. I'll be right here when you've come back to yourself. You know, Opium, makes you see things, hellish things most of the time, also not so hellish things and those are the worst, because they suck you in, make you think they're real, make you do things. Hearing voices Thomas? Questioning yourself?

_Shut up. Shut up. _

Tommy took another drink.

"That's it. Numb the pain a bit."

"I am not in pain."

"Dull the voices a bit."

Grace's voice, grace's breathing lingering in his ears.

"I am not hearing any voices, but yours."

"Christ, I don't want to see you when you are if this your normal state of mind.

Tommy took another drink.

"I could tell. I could tell something was up when you were sitting across from me in Margate. Old Alfie knew.

"And you decide to tell me about your recurring dream."

"Prophecy. Because I found you in a field, but with no horse. I am a god."

_Fuck you._

"First order of business. You're going to write me a check. A big handsome check. Then you and I are going to have a nice long chat about our next move.

"There is no next move."

"Mosley isn't dead."

"And you're going to help me?"

"In exchange for information. Look I want the fascist pig dead more than anyone, but I need a return. This residence seems to have many empty rooms. I think I'll take one."

"What about the police?"

"You're not thinking of calling them, are you? In your state? After what happened? You'll want to lay low."

_He's right._

"Let's talk traitors."

_Let's not._

Pollyanna?" Alfie began. "Viperous woman. Wouldn't put it past her."

" Her fiancé was murdered at the rally," Tommy said, his mouth going dry at the thought of Aberama Gold stabbed to death.

"Could have orchestrated it herself."

"Why?"

"You think Michael is smart enough to pull something like this off?"

"He tried before. You remember Churchill and the Sabini's."

_You clearly won't let me forget. _

"So Michael, your aunt, the wife," Alfie said. "What about your men? he asked, changing tactics.

"There's always a rotten apple, mold in the bread as I say. Who is someone you think you can trust most?"

_Johnny Dogs._

_"_Maybe it was you," Tommy countered.

"Maybe, but it wasn't. Maybe…. it's Winston Churchill himself. The real Churchill."

"Why would he want to prevent the assassination of a fascist?"

"You're the politician. You tell me."

"What do you want Alfie?"

"Information."

"What kind of information?"

"A series of numbers and a street name."

"Leave Ada out of this," Tommy said, immediately knowing what Alfie was driving at.

_I am not giving you her address._

"I suppose I can find out myself, but I'm showing you courtesy by making a request, like a gentleman."

_"Now that you've told me like a gentleman, go back to treating me like a gangster."_

May's words rang in his head.

"What about wife number 3? Maybe you divulged too much in the bedroom…"

"Not Lizzie."

"Why? Because she's your wife? Maybe your wife, your aunt, your cousin and his wife, all of them are out to get you. Or maybe it's none of them. Maybe this is just Mosley being one step ahead.

"He didn't know."

"Maybe he did."

He was getting nothing from this talk but a headache.

"How about your brother, Arthur?"

"No."

"I always liked Arthur. We had a real connection. Well, how about the young one, Fenton?

"Finn and he didn't…"

"He was a bit of a loose cannon," Alfie said. " Like Arthur. Maybe the betrayal was unintentional. Doesn't make it any less of a betrayal, but it is still betrayal."

"Alfie, Leave."

"I think, I'm going to pour myself a drink before it's gone."

He reached over and poured himself a glass.

"I was your brother in law. I was family."

Tommy said nothing to that.

"You like records, Thomas?" he asked. "I've got a nice collection of records back in Margate."

_Where is Lizzie?_

The phone rang, jarring, grating against his ears. Alfie picked up the receiver before Tommy could stop him.

"Shelby residence," he said before extending the phone to him. " It's for you."

_I can't do this anymore Tommy. I can't be your wife," Lizzie said._

_"Where are the children?"_

_"They're safe. Much safer now than they ever have been."_

_"Lizzie."_

The line went dead. Alfie acted as if he had not been interrupted.

"It seems our main problem is a lack of information. We know Mosley is a fascist, but we don't know much about his personal life."

"He likes women."

"Well, that's a start," Alfie said, not sounding too encouraged by the information.

"May talked to him."

"May.."

"Carleton."

"Right wife number one. Talk to her then. I could come along and act as an intermediary.

In case there is a chance of violence."

_A chance of violence?_

"You're a dangerous man Thomas. You're unpredictable too. Have to take precautions."

"Get out of my fucking house."

Alfie waved a hand.

"I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything. Holler. I know you can."

He stood up and lumbered out of the study. When he had closed the door, Tommy raised his hands and ran them through his hair, lowering his head down onto his desk.


End file.
